


floral paranoia

by Cherrycake_gingerstarrs (orphan_account)



Series: Daisy Chains [1]
Category: Splatoon
Genre: Angst, F/F, Hanahaki Disease, flower gore tw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:29:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22842493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Cherrycake_gingerstarrs
Summary: :>
Relationships: Agent 3/Agent 8 (Splatoon)
Series: Daisy Chains [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1642174
Comments: 10
Kudos: 16





	floral paranoia

“You’re actually gonna go?” The teal-haired inkling girl’s eyes widened, looking over the octoling sitting next to her on the tile floor with a mixture of confusion and anxiety. Tears were already streaming down her pale cheeks. “I-it’s not even that important! I-it’s just some errands! Can’t you just wait a couple days?!”

Around the kitchen, daisies covered the window sills and the counters. The flowers were everywhere in the home. They grew in the garden, they were placed in her room, they were painted on light fixtures and lamps. Even the living room wasn’t spared from the white and yellow flowers. The living blooms were dried, wilting even with the right amount of water. Their petals drifted off into the dirt. It was clear they had overstayed their welcome.

“Three, you’re being ridiculous. I’m gonna be fine.” Eight pulled her into a hug, lightly stroking her tentacles with the hopes that she’d calm down. “It’s not just errands, we also need groceries. The food we have isn’t gonna last us more than a day or two”

“But .... What if you get hurt? O-or worse…” More tears glided down her face as she melted into her arms, allowing Eight to trail her finger around her back in circles. It always comforted her. But now, the circles seemed to bring up a new feeling. A new feeling that Three was going to try her best and ignore.

“I promise you, I’m gonna be fine.” Eight wiped a tear away from her cheek. Brushing a tentacle away from her face, she spoke softly, her voice quiet and delicate, like the calm coo of a dove. “They’re just wilting anyways, You did say things only go wrong when they  _ die _ ”

Three nestled more into her, a cough making its way out of her mouth. Even with the horrible itch at the back of her throat, she pushed it to the back of her mind. The cuddling was too perfect to interrupt. Her blinking grew longer, and it was harder to keep her eyes open. With her breathing returning to normal and slowing, she finally let herself fall asleep in Eight’s cozy arms.

Eight rocked until Three was fast asleep, tenderly lifting her up and placing her on the couch. She curled her up in the fluffiest blanket she could find, laying her head against a light pillow. Whispering a soft goodbye and petting her head, she kissed her hand. “Stay safe, please.”

She quietly opened the door, saying a silent prayer. The house had a light glow from the dim strings of lights, leaving a warm, cozy sheen on the rooms. She shivered, seeing the brown, falling petals of the white and yellow flowers. They were everywhere. They practically dictated her whole life. Glancing back at the couch, Eight felt the tears from earlier well up in her eyes once more. Her grip grew tighter on the doorknob. She took a step outside, feeling the harsh wind and cool concrete from the snow.

....

The door clicked shut.

* * *

Three felt herself slowly fade back into consciousness, the warmth of the fluffy blankets creating welcomed heat against her usually cold body. She shifted just a bit, snuggling deeper into the pile of soft. The still, dark world around her covered her in a layer of comforting silence. Her breathing slowed, feeling herself delicately drift back into sleep. The window curtains were wide open, letting in a little bit of light from the cloud-covered sky. A breakage in the dusky clouds let a slight sliver of golden sunlight shine through the window, and directly into her eyes.

Unable to fall back asleep due to the harsh slice of light in her eyes, she reluctantly sat up, the thick blankets falling off of her body. She felt a shiver run down her spine, the temperature difference making itself quite apparent, to Three’s unamusement. The whole world was quite bright, to say the least. The strings of fairy lights filling the room with more soft, warm light than the lamps usually do. It seemed to be early in the morning. 

As she glanced around the room, her eyes caught sight of Eight asleep at her writing desk. She sighed in relief. Eight had been working on her poetry at that old, scratched up wooden desk that Three had for years before she came along. The drawers were filled with small little art doodads and old journals that she had never used. So she didn’t mind Eight taking all the stuff for herself. It’s not like she would have found a use for it without her. 

Her footsteps were quiet against the old, faded wooden floor. She was cautious with every step to make she didn’t wake up Eight, tiptoeing her way up the staircase that led to the freshly cleaned kitchen, and more importantly, the front door. Unhooking her jacket from the coatrack, she wrapped it around her snugly, ready for the chilly air to try and convince her to go back inside and give in to her paranoia. She wouldn’t. She knows she’s going on this damn walk, and she’s not gonna let the cold ass wind boss her around!

With the door shut behind her, Three started off on her walk, making an extra effort to leave as many footprints in the snow as she could, happily jumping from the sidewalk to where the grass used to lay, hearing the satisfying ‘crunch’ as she landed. The trees danced in the wind, the very few remaining leaves drifting off the bare branches and landing on the frosty ground, only to get crunched by Three’s cheerful skipping. 

Her steps soon began to slow down to a walk, watching the swaying trees as she let her mind wander. She bumped into someone every now and then, her daydreams engulfing and indulging her in her most dearest desire. As she let her imagination free, she completely lost track of time, the cloud covered sky being her only clock, and unfortunately, an unreliable one at that. 

Right in the middle of the best part, the sound of her phone going off snapped her back to reality. How long had she been out here again? And how far had she gotten from home? Pulling out her phone, Three determined it was 3:30 pm, and that Four was the one blowing up her phone with texts. Taking a glance at them, they seemed to be… extremely alarmed?

4:three are you ok??? i heard glass shattering in your apartment

4:powers out too, all the apartments in the complex lost power 

4:dude, please don’t tell me you tried to break a window with your head again

3:I’m not home atm, what happened? 

4:i heard a window break, you should probably hurry home, somebody might have decided to break into your apartment

3:And you didn’t call the cops??? You know what? Already on my way.

Once the final text was sent, she started sprinting back towards her apartment complex, her feet pounding against the concrete as limb-numbing adrenaline pulsed through her veins. The thought of Eight getting hurt, or maybe even killed, only added to her paranoid woes, praying that her worse nightmares won’t become a horrifying reality. But if worse does come to worse…

_ I should’ve second-guessed myself- I'm so, so sorry…  _

* * *

The door swung open, light spilling out onto the wooden floors, the boards creaking beneath her every step. Dust floated through the dry, uncomfortably warm air, settling down on the untouched furniture. With the warm glow of the lights, this room was usually cozy, now, it just seemed… dull, dreary, and lifeless _.  _ The whole house was shrouded in unsettling silence. The decorations seemed colorless, and the walls felt barren. A light breeze rustled the curtains, torn and tattered at the end like someone took a knife to them and sliced away without a care in the world. She took another step forward.  Something crunched beneath her boots.

Glass. Broken glass. And dirt. spilled all across the ground. Muddied with water from glasses that had been haphazardly thrown on the ground, letting trails of water get soaked into the spilled soil. 

Laying within the piles of dirt was a sight Three prayed to the heavens she wouldn’t see that day.

A singular, dead daisy. 

The inkling’s eyes widened, staring at the uprooted flower in disbelief. This...wasn’t supposed to happen. As her feet slowly began to feel as though they were cemented to the ground, she sprang into action, running around to look for Eight.

She ran up the stairs and tore open the door to her bedroom, knocked on the bathroom door, checked her own bedroom, and even checked the closets. The upstairs was still barren and empty, leaving only the downstairs to check.

Rushing back down the stairs, Three ripped open any door she saw, hoping and praying that behind one of these white wooden doors, would be Eight, safe and sound.

Of course, she was nowhere to be found.

Ending back where she started, the itch in her throat grew more and more unbearable, until she coughed. As soon as she started coughing, she couldn’t stop, struggling to breath in-between the chokes and wheezes. With all the coughing, she thought she was gonna throw up. Placing a hand to her mouth, instead of throwing up, she coughed up what seemed to be ink… and daisy petals. 

Panicked, she aggressively pounded a fist against her chest, trying to get whatever else was stuck in her throat out of there. She instead, puked up an alarming amount of ink with more daisy petals. The horrid taste of her own ink in her mouth only made her want to throw up more from pure panic. 

As she stared at the puddle, Three felt a horrible, unbearable pain erupt on half of her face. She winced, her eyes watering from the sheer amount of pain she was in. The scar flared up and burned, as a piercing pain was felt right by her eye, and her vision blurred, leaving one good eye left. 

She felt around her face, trying to find whatever caused her face to torture her, and felt a soft, thin petal in her fingers. As she patted more, it felt suspiciously like another daisy.

A daisy. On her face. A painful one too.

More tears streamed down her cheeks as she scratched and pulled at the flower, yelping as she pulled off a petal. A small bit of ink flowed out from where the petals were pulled, almost as if it was a wound. The area around the flower was irritated, and continued to burn and even glow a bit. 

Slowly, she stood up, and stared at the large broken window. When she got closer for a better look, the sharp parts of the shattered glass seemed to be stained with that same magenta ink, almost as if somebody dragged a person through there. And that person was no other than Eight, taken right out of their house.

The tears that streamed down her cheeks evaporated with her fury while she grabbed her bag, and shoved several things she needed in there, including a knife, as a weapon. With her bag all packed, she quickly let out a few more coughs, before looking back at the window.

She knew exactly what she had to do.

And as soon as she finds the people who took Eight?

It’s not gonna be pretty. At all. 

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
